Freaky Phonecalls
by Snowbear
Summary: This takes place when Harry is in Kindergarten, about five or so years old, young, carefree, and innocent... Until he gets a call from his teacher Mr. Thomas Riddle... I'm not to good at summeries, but please RR!
1. Phonecalls

A/N: This takes place before Harry enters Hogwarts, he's about four or five years old.

Harry sat in a chair at Mrs. Figg house, looking at cat pictures. How could one person have so many cats in their lifetime?

"Why do you have so many cats?" asked Harry, looking up at Mrs. Figg, his large glasses sliding down his nose.

"I like cats," Mrs. Figg explained, turning the page of the phota album.

"Why don't Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia have cats?" asked Harry.

But just as Mrs. Figg was about to answer to phone rang. Standing up she told Harry to sit tight and wait for her to get back. Harry nodded happily.

"Hey Smokey!" Harry said and pulled at the grey cat's tail as he walked by the chair, unknowing of the fate that awaited him there.

Mrs. Figgs continued into the kitchen and picked up the phone.

"Hello? Mrs. Figg speaking," she said.

"Hello," said a cold voice, that made Mrs. Figg nervous, "Is a Harry Potter there?"

"Yes," Mrs. Figgs said sternly, not liking where this was going.

"May I speak to him?" the cold voice asked.

"Can I ask who this is?" Mrs. Figg demanded.

"This is," he paused, "Mr. Thomas Riddle."

"And why do you want to speak to a boy of such young age? He's too young to be buying anything," Mrs. Figg was getting angry now.

"I am one of his teachers," Mr. Thomas Riddle said, "I need to speak to him about an upcoming project."

"Alright," Mrs. Figg replied and called Harry from the living room.

He walked in, and looking up at Mrs. Figg with a confused expression, which was only multiplied by his baggy shirt and pants, and his glasses half off his nose. 

Mrs. Figg couldn't help but smile at how cute Harry looked when he was confused as she handed him the phone.

"Its one of your teachers," she told him and Harry nodded.

"Hello?" Harry asked into the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Potter. Are you alone?" Mr. Riddle asked.

"No," Harry told him.

"Would you ask Mrs. Figgs if you could talk to me alone?" Mr. Riddle asked.

Harry, being little, did not suspect anything, and replied, "Okay."

"He wants to talk to me privately," Harry told Mrs. Figg.

But, Mrs. Figg was busy in the living room, dusting and cleaning.

"Okay, I'm alone," Harry told Mr. Riddle.

"Good. Now, I've something very important to talk to you about. Understand?" the teacher asked.

"Uh-huh," Harry said.

"Now, I understand you live with your Aunt and Uncle?" Mr. Riddle asked.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"I need to talk to you face to face about a project we will be doing soon in class," Mr. Riddle said.

"Okay," Harry said.

"Can you meet me in the woods at eight o'clock tonight?" Mr. Riddle asked, his cold voice unaffecting to Harry.

"Thats past my bedtime," Harry said.

"Harry, are you finished yet? You've been on the phone awfully long?" Mrs. Figgs asked, coming back into the kitchen.

"I can't talk much longer," Harry said into the phone.

"Okay, but can you be there?" Mr. Riddle, asked, his voice beginning to come urgent.

"I'm in bed then," Harry said.

"Can you sneak out? Its really important," Mr. Riddle told Harry.

"No! I'm not aloud out that late!" Harry shouted and dropped the reciever to run to Mrs. Figg.

"That guy on the phone is scary!" he cried, holding onto Mrs. Figg.

Her eyes narrowed and she walked into the kitchen, followed closely by Harry, and picked up the fallen phone.

"Hello? This is Mrs. Figg again. What kind of things are you saying to Harry, you've scared the poor boy!" Mrs. Figg said to Mr. Riddle.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was I scaring him? I didn't mean to do that! Perhaps I should talk to you instead?" Mr. Riddle's voice was sarcastic.

"I don't believe you really are one of his teachers? Who are you?" Mrs. Figg demanded.

Harry could hear what Mr. Riddle was saying as well and he shivered.

"Lord Voldemort!" he said, cackling and the then phone went dead.

Mrs. Figg went white and she dropped the phone, just as Harry did. Harry tugged at her dress and looked questioningly at Mrs. Figg.

"Who's Lord Voldmort?" Harry asked, his past fear forgotten.

"No, Harry, you don't want to know. We've got to get out of here. If thats who it really was, then it means he's still our there and he knows where you are. That is the most important thing," Mrs. Figgs said and lead Harry through the house.

"Why does he want to get to me?" Harry wondered.

"Nevermind that, we've got to get Dumbledore," she said hurried outside, where the sun was getting low in the sky.

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked as he got into the seat next to her.

"Nevermind him either, it would be easier if you'd stop asking questions," Mrs. Figg told him.

"Why?" asked Harry.

Mrs. Figg didn't answer, instead she turned on the car and zoomed out into the street.

"Where are we going?" asked Harry, and again Mrs. Figg didn't answer. 

Instead she mumbled to herself about the mysterious man on the phone and the other man she had mentioned before, all great wonders to little Harry.

"Hogwarts," she said.

"Oh," said Harry, wondering how she would shrink them enough to fit on a wart.

After about five minutes more of driving, Harry spoke up again, "But this isn't the way to the Zoo," he protested.

"What?" asked Mrs. Figg, glancing at Harry for a second.

"You said we were going to hog warts," he asked, confused.

"Oh! No, no, thats the name of the place!" she answered, smiling to herself.

"Oh," said, Harry, thinking that over.

Suddenly, she swerved and pulled into a driveway. Pulling Harry out of the car she walked up to the door and knocked. After a minute or so, another old women answered.

"You brought Harry Potter!" she crowed, "and at this time of day too!"

Harry just stared blankly at the new woman as she invited them in.

"I need to speak to Dumbledore," Mrs. Figg said gravely, "and I had to disconnect my fireplace, with all these muggles coming in and out of it."

"Yes, yes, but why?" asked the woman.

"Its about You-Know-Who," said Mrs. Figg as she tossed some dust into the fire and shouted, "Albus Dumbledore!"

"No," said Harry, causing both women to look at him.

"What was that?" asked Mrs. Figg.

"No," said Harry.

"No what?" asked the woman.

"I don't know who," Harry said.

The woman gave a short laugh, "we don't like to speak his name, dear."

"Oh," said Harry, very confused.

Just then though, Dumbledore's head popped into the fireplace, causing Harry to run behind a chair.

"Arabella!" said Dumbledore, surprised.

"While I was watching Harry, I got an interesting phonecall from one of Harry's teachers," Mrs. Figg began.

"Is Harry here?" Dumbledore asked, looking around, Harry peaked out from behind the chair.

"Yes, but it was a man named Mr. Thomas Riddle. At the end of the phone call, after scaring Harry, he admitted to be.... You-Know-Who!" Mrs. Figgs said hurriedly.

"Please say his real name," said Dumbledore, "and it could have been a hoax. Why so sure?"

"If you heard him... his voice... the way he laughed... I nearly had a heart attack!" Mrs. Figgs shivered just thinking about it.

"Why is that guy's head in the fireplace?" asked Harry, now brave enough to come out and stare at Dumbledore in wonder.

"You are going to have to erase his memory of this, you know," Dumbledore said, smiling at Harry.

"Yes, I know, but this was a matter of utmost emergency, Dumbledore. He knows where Harry is!" Mrs. Figgs said urgently.

"Then we will have to take care of that," Dumbledore said grimly.

"How?" asked Mrs. Figgs.

"Bring Harry to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said grimly, all the while looking at Harry, who didn't have a clue that his life was being discussed.


	2. Trouble

Harry sat down in the big, soft, chair in the office of the person named Albus Dumbledore. He wondered if he was just a head or if this time the head would come with a body.

"Hogwarts is big," commented Harry to Mrs. Figg.

"Yes, very big, and its easy to get lost in so you must stay with me," Mrs. Figg said, she was seated in the other chair.

"Hello, Harry, Arabella," Dumbledore stepped in at sat at the desk.

"Why does he call you Arabella?" asked Harry.

"That's my first name," Mrs. Figg said.

"Oh, " responded Harry, "I though it was Mrs."

"Now, we are here to discuss, how shall I put it, recent events? My suggestion to you Arabella, is to keep Harry safe, which means staying here for a while, until Voldemort is, put off track. Meanwhile, the Dursleys have been notified of the situation," Dumbledore said.

"I don't want to stay here," said Harry, with a yawn.

"Alright, Dumbledore. Harry, if we go back, the scary man will come," Arabella said to Harry.

Harry shivered and said, "Okay, lets stay here."

"Use the guest room in the fourth corridor," Dumbledore intructed Arabella.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and Professor Snape burst in.

"Hello, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly.

Snape took one look at Arabella and Harry and sputtered to Dumbledore, "What?"

"I shall update you. It seems Voldemort is attempting to reach Harry, using his young age to his advantage. He called Harry on the muggle telephone this evening," Dumbledore told Snape.

"Well," said Snape, looking at the very young Harry, who had know curled up and fallen asleep in his chair, "I suppose a few dungbombs that I found in my classroom aren't very important then."

Dumbledore chuckled, "Not at the moment, Severus. Actaully, I was hoping you would come. I would like you and Arabella to trace that phone call and find Voldemort. He cannot be very strong right now and I only hope we can stop him from rising to power to quickly."

Snape nodded.

"What of Harry?" asked Arabella.

"Madam Pomfrey, I believe, can take care of him for the time being," Dumbledore said, "and I suggest you two be off."

Snape nodded and turned to leave. Arabella followed and Harry and Dumbledore were left in the office.

Dumbledore walked back around his desk, picked up the sleeping Harry and brought him to the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfry could take care of him. 

***

"Whats the little kid doing here?" asked Charlie Weasley as he came into the Hospital Wing with a broken wrist from Quidditch Practice.

"That little kid is Harry Potter and he is here under very special circumstances," said Madam Pomfry stiffly.

Harry, who was playing with a bed sheet, looked up at Charlie and smiled. Standing up, he wrapped the sheet around him and said in the scariest voice he could find, "I am the Scary Man from the Telephone! Run away!" 

Charlie, unsure of what to say, ignored him, and sat down on one of the beds while Madam Pomfrey got her wand to mend his wrist.

"You're not scared?" Harry looked confused.

"Not really," asked Charlie, a little amazed to see Harry Potter sitting there playing Villian. He could even see the scar on his forehead, mostly covered by messy black hair, where Voldemort had attempted to kill him.

"Fine! I am Lordy Voldiemore!!!" yelled Harry and made an ugly face at Charlie.

Charlie gasped and looked at Madam Pomfrey, who apparently hadn't heard Harry. Harry, on the other hand, was grinning.

"I scared you!" he shouted and cackled evilly.

"Um, Madame Pomfrey, is he aloud to do that?" Charlie asked nervouly.

"Do what?" inquired Madame Pomfrey as she finished up his wrist.

"He said You-Know-Who's name," Charlie said, glancing at Harry as if he were a disease.

"Harry!" Madame Pomfrey said sharply, "What have I told you about saying that name?"

Harry looked at his feet and pouted, "Sorry."

"Charlie, you can go now, and not a word of Harry to anyone else!" Madame Pomfrey told Charlie, who looked disappointed at this news.

"Bye!" said Harry as the Infirmary door closed.

Madame Pomfrey sat down and started knitting, while keeping an eye on Harry, who proved that when not with the Dursley's could get in a world of trouble. Harry, being especially quiet, watched while Madame Pomfrey fell asleep and then sneaked out of the Hospital Wing.

"Ooh," he said, looking at the big stone hallways.

Then he started skipping down the hallway to the left, wondering where it would lead him, and knowing very well he might get lost. Suddenly he bumped into a big, black, wavy thing. Looking up it, he found that a head was perched on top of it.

"Hi," said Harry nervously, for he knew he was being bad.

"Who the heck are you?" asked the student.

"Harry," replied Harry, grinning.

"_Potter_? Blimey, I didn't know he was here! Charlie, Bryan, come 'ere!" shouted the boy.

Charlie Weasley and his friend Bryan Jackson came running around the turn.

"Hey Harry, I though you were supposed to be in the Hospital Wing," Charlie said cheerfully.

"Lordie Voldiemore goes wherever he likes," said Harry darkly.

Bryan exchanged glances with the boy, "Can he do that, David?"

"Dunno," David shrugged.

"He's not aloud too," said Charlie, staring at Harry, to make his point.

"Oops," said Harry, looking at his feet.

"How'd you figure out 'bout 'im anyway?" asked David.

"I saw him in the Hospital Wing when I was getting my wrist fixed," explained Charlie, "and you"-

Charlie had been about to tell Harry to go back when he noticed the little boy wasn't there.

"Where'd 'ee go?" wondered David, looking around.

"We have to find him!" said Bryan, running down the hallway in the direction he thought Harry had gone.

Harry, meanwhile, watched the whole thing from the cuboard he was hiding in. Once the three boys were gone he jumped out and continued on his way. Pushing open a door, five minutes later, he found Mrs. Figg and Snape, preparing to use Floo Powder. Grinning, he watched as Snape stepped into the fire and shouted, "the Figgs!"

Mrs. Figg did the same and after she had left Harry crept over to the bag with floo powder.

"Hmm," he said to himself and tossed the bag into the fire.

It exploded with green flames. Harry smiled and stepped in, gigling when he found it did not hurt him.

"The Figgs!" he shouted and found himself whirling around.

He laughed and smiled, this was fun! Suddenly, he was shoved out and he found himself rolling on the rug in Mrs. Figg's living room. Standing in front of him, but looking the other way, were Snape and Mrs. Figg, holding the telephone.

Being as quiet as possible, and not suceeded well he waited for them to do something. Suddenly, Mrs. Figg disappeared, and right after her, Snape disappeared.

Harry gaped, and struggled over to the spot where they had been standing.

"Mrs. Figg? Snape?" he called out, with no reply.

Suddenly the house looked dark and big and threatening. Harry ran to the chair he always sat in and curled up. Quickly he pulled the blanket over him and huddled there, very scared.

Then there was a great bang at the door and a thud of it falling down. Harry pulled the blanket over his head. There where voices and a bunch of people piled in. 

Among them, was the voice from the telepone. Harry started to cry in fear and wished that he were invisible beyond everything.

"It seems deserted," said a voice.

"Search it anyway," said the cold voice everyone called Lord Voldemort.

Someone walked past Harry's chair and a lot of banging noises came from the kitchen. 

"Harry? Harry Potter?" asked the cold voice, trying to sound nice.

Harry shivered in his hiding spot. Suddenly, the blanket was pulled away from him and Harry found himself staring at three pairs of cold eyes. 

"You did well," said the voice, although it came from none of the men.

Harry looked at them wildly, scared out of his wits. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Kill him," ordered Lord Voldemort, was he a ghost?

Then the voice was right next to his ear, whispering, "never thought you'd die so young, did you, Harry?" 

Harry didn't answer.

"Say goodbye Harry," the voice whispered.

"Where are you?" Harry managed to croak out.

The voice laughed, high and cold, "I am not strong enough to take on a true form, yet strong enough to speak, and control!"

Harry yelled and jumped up in the chair. He glared at the three men in anger, his hair even more messy then usual.

"Little tyke wants to fight!" laughed one of the men.

"Go away!" shouted Harry, holding his fists ready.

"Kill him!" shouted the voice.

The men pulled out their wands and aimed them at Harry. 

"You can't kill me!" yelled Harry, angrily, attempting to punch them.

Suddenly there was a loud meow and cats leaped on the men. Almost six cats to each the scratched and clawed a bit.

They screamed and attempted to throw the cats off, but it was hopeless. Harry laughed and jumped up and down, "_Good_ kitties!"

"Kill the boy!" shouted Lord Voldemort, but no one payed attention.

Harry turned and glared at the place the voice came from. 

"You will die!" Voldemort said and Harry felt something cold go through him.

"I won't!" yelled Harry, turning around.

"Oh yes you will," said Voldemort and Harry felt icey, invisibly hands wrapping around his neck.

"Help!!" Harry yelled, trying to fight off a body that wasn't there.

Then there was a his and a tiny snake with glowing yellow eyes came out from under the floorboards and glared at the place Voldemort would be if he had a body.

Harry, for some reason, did not look at the snake but the grip on his neck lessened and Harry heard Voldemort shout in a strange language, "Kill him!"

"Don't!" Harry told the little snake.

The snake hesitated and the hissed again, his eyes glowing.

"Nooo!" Harry heard Voldemort cry, and then he knew that the thing had left completely.

"How'd you do that?" Harry asked the snake.

"I isss a Bassilisssk!" said the snake and disappeared back under the floorboards.

The three men, meanwhile, had long ago ran off, covered in cuts and gashes. Harry looked at all the cats milling about.

"Thanks," he said to them and curled back to sleep on his chair. 

And when he woke up, he knew no more then he had the afternoon he had been looking at photos with Mrs. Figg.


End file.
